The Gambit Variety Hour
by Penchan
Summary: Bereft of funds, the most mysterious X-man of all...hosts his own variety hour in a cheap yet stylish ploy to rake in de big bucks!
1. Default Chapter

The Gambit Variety Hour: 'The Beginning of the End!'

(Or 'Gambit Sells Out!')

by Lara Negami

PG-13  No actual wildlife or x-men were injured or killed in the making of this fic.

Disclaimer: I don't own Remy or any other of the X-men or their accessories.  Marvel does.  No copyright infringement is intended, no profit was made.  Nothing to see here folks, move along to the story. 

Somewhere in upstate New York, a bird chirped.  This was not an unusual occurrence in New York, or unusual behavior for avians in the early morning hours.  Such were the musings of a handsome lay-a-bed thief as he contemplated toasting it with a kinetic charge to make it shut up.  

          "Tweet-tweet!" 

          "Awright, de bird gets it!"  

Flash – sizzle – 

          "Twee-youch!! Sh*t!!  Aauugghh!!"  CRASH!!

Gambit poked his head out from the blankets in surprise.  He got out of bed and padded over to the window, and just about wet his jammies laughing as he watched a rather singed Warren Worthington III nursing a sore rump.  

          "Dat'll teach ya t'let sleeping t'ieves lie….lay…. whatever!"  He slammed down the window and ignored Archangel's now muffled curses.  

Downstairs in the Xavier mansion's kitchen all heads turned (not that he wasn't used to that happening around him) as he sauntered into the room.  What he wasn't used to, was Professor Charles Xavier, founder, mentor and financial supporter of the vigilante mutant group known as the X-Men, eating breakfast with his dependants.  Usually he preferred breakfasting in bed with Cyclops (get your minds out o' de gutter and finish readin' de sentence!) bringing it to him on a tray.

          "Allo, don' mind li'l ol' me." He said as he snagged a banana from the fruit bowl.

          "Good morning, Gambit.  I'm glad you decided to join us this morning, as what I'm about to say affects you also."

Gambit looked around at the superheroes.  Most looked puzzled, but Jean Grey-Summers and her husband Scott aka Cyclops looked downright grim.  Gambit got a chill of foreboding in the pit of his stomach.

          "Due to the economy taking a sudden plunge, my investments haven't been doing as well as I'd hoped for.  Additionally, since Wolverine took off to hunt down Osama Bin Laden in the Caves of Afghanistan, we've lost much of our reading audience without his regular appearances for our reality-based comic books.  Although a trade paperback will eventually be published whenever he gets done skewering Bin Laden, it still leaves us with a sizable hole in our income for the nonce."

This was bad.  Very very bad.  Bobby Drake aka Iceman cringed as he mentally calculated all the danger room 'bots he and Scott had trashed this morning.  All of the **expensive** 'bots.

Professor X continued, 

          " And so, there will be a few changes in our lifestyle here.  If someone doesn't like it, they may leave at any time and get themselves a **real** job."

After glaring at each of them meaningfully, he pulled out a list and proclaimed the changes forthcoming:

          "For the duration of the crisis, all non-essential personnel, to wit: those who have been on missions an average of fewer than 4 days per week in the last fiscal quarter, or those who do not serve in a full-time service capacity, may either remove themselves from the mansion and seek lodging & meals elsewhere, or pay a daily rent of $50 to cover room and board." 

The professor gestured at Cyclops to take over.

Scott ticked off names on his fingers,

           "That means Marrow, Cannonball, Storm, Archangel, Jubilee and Gambit.  We **will** of course be happy to provide references for those who need it."

As unhappy sounds of shock permeated the room, and some gestured wildly as others dug out their bankbooks to see if they could afford to stay, Professor X went on to the next item on his hit list.

          "Additionally, those who have excessive needs and/or engage in destruction of my property on a regular basis will, as of this morning, cease and desist, or pay as they           "play ".  That includes medical supplies, danger room equipment, mansion furnishings, the contents of my private liquor cabinet – and did you **really** think you could get away with that, Bobby?  I **am** the strongest telepath on the planet you know! – and any other repairs needed due to either negligence or willful destruction of property!"

Cyclops filled in the rest –           

"The list of prices for medical supplies are posted on the door to the infirmary, equipment repair/replacement costs are posted outside the danger room, with labor charges and/or shipping added in, and the office will have price lists for internet usage, cable TV pay-per-view fees, and a phone log for all long-distance phone calls/faxes.  We've also padlocked the liquor cabinet, so get it elsewhere, you rummies!  

If you fail to comply with the new rules and regulations, you will meet with the following penalties, depending on the seriousness of the offense:  Genoshan power-inhibiting collars will be used on those who cannot exercise restraint.  Wages will be garnished, or if you have failed to find gainful employment, you will be involuntarily hired out on a number of projects that will provide an income. "

Everyone groaned.  They knew what that meant.  Mall appearances and birthday parties!  Rogue was still trying to get some stubborn bits of chewing gum out of her hair from an appearance at a 4 yr-old's birthday bash.  She refused to cut her hair, and was patiently waiting for the ratty clumps to grow out.

          "Why don't we just hit Warren up for some cash?" Bobby inquired.            

"Yeah, Wings!  Why can't we just borrow some of your money, you've got tons!"  Marrow remarked.

          "You're right.  The money is mine.  Operative word here: Mine!  MINE, MINE, **MINE**!!!!!  And I'm not gonna share! " 

Having said this, Archangel stuck his tongue out childishly and stalked away to go sulk in his Manhattan luxury penthouse.

Professor X wheeled himself away from the pandemonium he had caused, smirking.  Cyclops sat there stolidly, with a  'My way, or the highway' look on his face.  Jean filed her nails.  SHE was essential personnel, as a 5 day-per-week-average mission member, infirmary doctor, cook and personal masseuse for the professor.  Doing her husband, the team leader, didn't hurt her chances of living rent-free, either.

Back in his room, Gambit accessed his Swiss and Bahamian bank accounts.  To his dismay, all his assets were frozen!  He called the toll-free number on his ATM card, punched in his PIN number and listened to the recorded message.  It was not, however, the bank's usual recording:

          "Remy-kins, though we no longer live together as man & wife, I do expect you to at least remember my birthday!" his estranged wife Belle's voice cooed sweetly.

          "D'oh!!" Gambit thwacked himself on the head.  How could he have forgotten!  Frak!  But freezing all his assets was a bit excessive for a forgotten birthday, wasn't it?

          "You might be thinking that freezing a man's assets is a bit ovah board for a forgotten birthday, but Remy hon…..YOU ALSO FORGOT OUR ANNIVERSARY!!!"

Gambit stood there pole axed.  And whimpered.  He was lucky that all she did was freeze his bank accounts.  His hands crept protectively to the family jewels.  It could have been worse.  Very very much worse!

Later that afternoon, in the X-Mansion's library:

Rustle, rustle

…….

Rustle, rus-           

          "Remy!  Would'ja quit rustlin' that damn paper?!" 

           "Aw, Jubes, Remy can't help it!  Remy be tryin' t'fin' himsel' a job, me."

          "So are the rest of us, bub!"

          "Je suis desole."

It was a sorry sight.  Scantily spandex-clad, muscular mutant superheroes and heroines lay sprawled over various pieces of furniture, poring over multiple copies of the want ads.

Jubilee had decided it was either going to be a day-care or nursing home attendant, or psychic hotline operator.  Cannonball had already hired out as an itinerant migrating farm worker, Marrow had been quickly snapped up by a S&M bar, and Remy didn't seem to be qualified for anything.  Unfortunately there was an extreme lack of jobs for experts in unnecessary abbreviatin' o' words, or excessive use of apostrophes'''' or speaking in the third person, with extra pronouns thrown in for good measure at the end of sentences, me.  

Though seemingly bi-lingual, the Cajun in reality only knew a handful of phrases that he had picked up while trolling the various bars on Bourbon Street during a drunken Mardi Gras spree many years ago.  After a few petites, je suis desoles and ouis, he only had his cheesy accent to fall back on.  

To Be Continued……


	2. The Gambit Variety Hour: Interlude 1 or ...

The Gambit Variety Hour: Interlude 1

(Or 'Filling in the Plot Holes!')

by Penchan

PG-13  No actual wildlife or x-men were injured or killed in the making of this fic.

Disclaimer: I don't own Remy or any other of the X-men or their accessories.  Marvel does.  No copyright infringement is intended, no profit was made.  Nothing to see here folks, move along to the story. 

Remy LeBeau, master thief and X-man, nursed the paper cuts on the few fingers left unclad by his semi-fingerless gloves.  The want ads had been a bust.  The only thing he had to show for his labors were the aforementioned paper cuts received when an irritated Jubilee had unceremoniously yanked the paper from his hands.  

He could always steal somethi—

          "YEOOWWW!!"  In agony he dropped to the ground clutching his head.

          "It was jest an idle t'ought, Professor!  Gambit wasn't gon' DO somt'in like dat!"

_          "See that you don't, Gambit.  Or you KNOW the consequences!"_

Gambit shuddered.  He knew all right.  

Who would have known the Professor was a closet Buffy fan?  He'd been particularly inspired by the episode where the government implanted a behavior-altering microchip into a previously homicidal vampire's brain.  

For weeks afterward Professor Xavier and Dr. McCoy, also known as Beast, had huddled over various piles of Shi'ar gadgetry.  From then on it was only a matter of time before one of the X-men was knocked unconscious in battle and unable to voice a protest over becoming a guinea pig for the devious duo's fiendish scheme.

Gambit was the first to go under the knife.

Gambit was also the last to go under the knife, due to the mass conversion of all inhabitants of the mansion to Christian Scientists when they learned what had happened to him.  In deference to their religious beliefs, Beast regretfully informed the Professor that they would have to content themselves with the single test subject.

Now, whenever Gambit had the least little larcenous thought, excruciating pain whipped thru his skull, leaving him twitching and shuddering afterward.  The only exception was if he were directly ordered by either the Professor or his weasel, Scott, to 'liberate' something or 'effectuate entrance'.  Which was why he was now looking for gainful employment instead of his usual methods for financial gain.  Pere and Tante Mattie would be so ashamed if they knew!


End file.
